I'm Back!

School's out!  With the return of summer, I thought it would be the perfect time to revive ye olde blog.  My Adventures in Italy, Part III begin in September, and non vedo l'ora -- I can't wait!  You can see the side bar for a brief summary of my plans.

Until then I expect things to be pretty busy, yet mundane (especially this post), so if you decide to keep reading, consider yourself forewarned!

At the moment I am still in Maryland, finishing my school responsibilities (just turned in the grade finals -- hooray! -- and keys -- how strange! -- yesterday) and working out the final details needed to obtain my study visa.  These details include a letter of invitation from my hosts, two letters of enrollment from the language school, round trip airfare, proof of insurance, proof of financial support...and I'm sure there's more that I'm forgetting.

The big thing remaining from that list is proof of insurance.  I do despise insurance.  I guess I'm pretty thankful for auto insurance (had to file a pretty major claim a month ago) but insurance of all types is always so complicated.  I have to find travel/international health insurance with a minimum coverage of $50,000 and while I have found a few options, it's hard to tell whether or not the company is reputable.  Just when I think I've found a good deal, I find several dismal reviews.  If anyone reading this happens to have experience with such insurance, please let me know!

This reminds me -- you don't have to be a registered user to leave comments on this blog.  Just click "anonymous" and then just sign your name at the bottom of your post.

After I assemble all the necessary documents, I will need to go to the consulate in Baltimore to apply for said visa.  I am dreading this SO MUCH.  I called this morning.  (By the way, the Italian consulate is only open until noon.  Just for fun, I checked the hours of the German consulate.  They are open from until 5:30 p.m.  Oh well, I just have to keep reminding myself that the laid-back attitude is just one of the many reasons I love Italy.)  The girl who answered the phone asked for my email address and said she would email me the information.

"Do I need an appointment?"  I asked.

"Yes, but first you need the necessary documents, which I know you don't have because I haven't sent the information to you yet."

Well then.  She didn't consider the fact that I might have been doing my homework and already found the list of 1,000,000,000,000,000,000+ requirements for a long-stay visa.  I suppose it will be nice to have the official word, although I'm slightly concerned that I haven't received the list.  Maybe it was too much for her to muster up in the last 45 minutes of her working day.  I'll be sure to call first thing tomorrow.

**UPDATE**  She DID sent the packet, a little before 1 p.m.  My faith is restored!

After I manage to submit a successful application, which I dearly hope will be next week, I plan to pack as many of my belongings as will fit into my car and return to Tennessee for a few months.  I plan to take the GRE this summer, as well as make application to a number of graduate schools.  My objective right now, after I finish my time as an au pair, is to get a Masters of Arts in Teaching (MAT) Latin.  I'll have one more week of teaching in Maryland (an end-of-summer Latin review class) and then I'll pack up my family's minivan with the rest of my stuff and prepare to leave.  I fly out of Charlotte on Saturday, 1 September.

And there you have it!  Feel free to leave a comment if you have any questions, comments, or well-wishes... ;)

In which the introvert has too much alone time...

Today, one of my dreams for Sicily came true! The one problem was that I had nobody with whom to share it, so it wasn't as fulfilling as I had expected. This post is dedicated to my lovely cousins across the globe, especially the ones who are lucky enough to be the family reunion in South Dakota. They are my dearest friends and I missed them a lot today.

Last night, as I was eating my dinner (leftovers from lunch since I had gone to the beach early) Maria came in and said “Stavo pensando…” Actually I can’t remember the whole thing in Italian. She said she had been thinking about my desire to go to Palermo, and though I should take one of the tours promoted by the hostel. It’s a company called Sicilian Airbus Tours, and its acronym SAT does not scare me like it might have in high school. They do guided bus tours to places like Mt. Etna, Palermo, Siracusa, and any other possible day trip. I hadn’t thought about taking one because it’s much cheaper to organize your own trip. Maria, however, said they would pay for my ticket. “Veramente?!” I said. Yes, truly, I was going in less than twelve hours.

The bus departed Taormina at 6 o’clock this morning. I woke up at 5 and hit the snooze button once before I convinced myself that it would be a huge shame (funny story on “shame” later on) if I missed the tour that had been so kindly arranged for me. So I got out of bed, crashed into a few things (which miraculously did not wake up my three roommates) and tried to gather what I needed for this last-minute trip. By 5:30 I was running the first hundred meters down the road, just to make sure I would get to the bus terminal with time to spare. I applied sunscreen as I went. I kicked myself for forgetting a notebook and a hair band. Turns out I didn’t need the hair band (it has remained remarkably cool here for the past week) and I just paid extra-close attention to the tour guide so I could remember everything to share with you here.

Despite the drawbacks (limited time frame, pre-selected activities, blatant identification as a tourist) there is something so relaxing about being on a guided bus tour. It nice to be driven around and told what to do, rather than stressing about making a train or bus connection. It’s like being a kid again. Also, it limited my chances of run-ins with men I would rather not have run-ins with. Oh, yes, that keeps happening. Just the other day I was innocently eating a peach, admiring the view of Isola Bella from the top of the long staircase. This guy’s pickup line was “un bel posto, vero?” – “ a beautiful spot, isn’t it?” but unluckily for him, I was running out of patience for such behavior and soon excused myself with “I have to go – ciao!” and scurried off down the stairs. If he were cuter, maybe I would have kept up the conversation longer. JUST KIDDING, MOM!

So anyway, at 6 o’clock this morning I handed my ticket to the lady who turned out to be our tour leader. She was a very impressive lady who, for the entire 14-hour day, made every single announcement and explained every single site in three languages: Italian, English, and German. I think, from her accent, that she herself was German. We had a local guide in Palermo who also accomplished that tri-lingual feat. He was an older Italian man named Pietro and he reminded me of Grandpa Heckmann. Oh, I forgot to mention that our bus driver’s name was Nino. I really need to make a list of all the Italian names I hear. They can be so funny.

We got to visit three towns today, actually. Besides Palermo, we visited an amazing cathedral in Monreale as well as the beautiful seaside town of Cefalù. Monreale was a bonus, actually just a replacement for another church in Palermo that was closed for renovations, and I am so thankful we got to visit. After our brief tour of Europe at Christmas time, my friends and I were trying to decide our favorite church. Mine was either St. Mark’s in Venice or Notre Dame in Paris, but after today I think it is the cathedral of Monreale. I can’t imagine any other church being better.

Oh darn, I really have to go to bed. I'm going to post this anyway, so I apologize for leaving you hanging. Tomorrow I will share everything I remember about the sites. They were all SO beautiful. But my closing thought is something that I questioned on the way home, looking out on the gorgeous blue Mediterranean Sea with the Aeolian Islands on the horizon. Can beauty, all on its own, make a person happy? After today, I think it cannot. (Does that have something to do with why God created the world? Is that why God created Eve? Is this all too deep for me to be thinking about at midnight? Undoubtedly.) I would like to explore that thought someday, but tonight I will just say that I wish you were here!

Update

It is lame, but I have to post something. Today I am going to Palermo, and I've barely known for 12 hours. The family just sprang it on me. It is a lovely surprise, though, because they're buying my ticket! I have to run, but I'll definitely have something to write about tonight. Ciao!

Granita

I almost went to bed without posting, but I can't sleep so you all are in luck! Today I caught up on sleep (maybe too much? no, impossible) and took another walk around Taormina. It is has become my unofficial mission to find the best granita in the town, taking prices into consideration, and today I had a breakthrough. (If you are unfamiliar with this delicious alternative to gelato, maybe you know Italian ice. I'd say they're similar, if not the same thing. Granita comes in all sorts of flavors from almond and coffee to strawberry and kiwi.)

The place for granita that we at Taormina's Odyssey recommend to everyone is called "Bam Bar" which specializes in all kinds of granite (that's the plural...I'm not really sure when to use the singular and when to use the plural). They make all different varieties from scratch, right there. The granita experience, I am told, is made complete with panna (whipped cream) and brioche (a big, fluffy, golden brown pastry roll) but so far I've just enjoyed it in its simplest form: from a plastic cup, whilst walking down the street. It doesn't take much more than that to make it one of my favorite things. To me, coffee flavored is best.

Above: an example of the ultimate granita experience -- maybe I am missing out!

Below: lemon granita, the way I normally consume it.

Anyway, a little take-away plastic cup of granita di caffè costs €2,50 at most places along the main pedestrian tourist street. Once before I found it for €2 but it was disgusting and old. Last week I was rather shocked when I finally made it to Bam Bar and had to pay €3,50. That's approximately $5! Eeep. So today I was excited to find, not more than 300 meters down that same street, a place with equally good granita for only €2. Victory! Still not an everyday indulgence, but much more affordable, don't you agree? And it's impossible to beat on a hot day. Saturday it's supposed to reach 99º F, so I think some more granita is in my immediate future.

A (Can't Really Define It As) Typical Day

7:30 I wake up, not having slept well. One of the Italian girls was talking to one of the Italian boys outside the dorm window at 3:30 a.m. and I oddly woke up. I'm normally such a good sleeper, but I think I was worried about the day, since we had a lot of last-minute arrivals and more people than I was expecting. Too many people for this introvert, perhaps.

7:45 I'm dressed and preparing for breakfast.

8 The American woman who lives in Holland is at the table, since she has to catch a bus at 9. Two noisy but extremely nice French girls complete the group of early risers. The American couple from New York City (who are nearly my grandparents' age) come down next. There is a French couple who needs change for their payment the day before, and couple of German guys who ask me a question about renting a scooter. In the midst of all this, I keep the stove on for coffee and tea as desired, heat up pane in the microwave, and wash dishes and utensils as soon as they are used so that I can re-set places at the table which only seats 8. This morning we have 12 guests, I believe, but the Italians don't come down for breakfast (they were the ones up in the wee small hours of the morning, remember).

10 Breakfast goes until 9:30, and so by this time I have had a chance to finish all the dishes and clear the table and counters. I start taking sheets off the beds which have been vacated, but can't start the laundry because we're currently out of detergent. So I re-make the beds with new clean sheets and begin cleaning the bathrooms. Maria arrives and continues the laundry, then ever-so-swiftly helps me finish the cleaning. She says we can go to the market this morning, which in Taormina is held every Wednesday just up the street.

11:30 We are at the market, looking at jewelry and dresses, produce and plants. Maria is looking for a certain kind of flower, but they have sold out. She buys a swimsuit because they are much less expensive here than in a regular shop. They are made in China (interesting that the labels don't say "Made in China" but "Made in P.R.C.") or other such places, but she and I agree that swimsuits don't necessarily have to be high quality if one doesn't go swimming that often. I run back later and buy a strapless one, because avoiding tan lines is a never-ending challenge for me.

12:30 I read a little bit and take a short nap, but before I truly fall asleep I hear Maria outside my door saying "Katie! Pronto!" which just means that lunch is ready, not that she's rushing me. (That's what all Italians say when they're answering the phone, actually..."Pronto!")

2 We are eating without Piero this afternoon, which happens from time to time when he makes a trip to Messina or Catania. Ruggero has eaten already. He wanted so on the way home from the market his mother stopped at a Macelleria to buy hamburgers. She and I are having pasta con lenticchie and when I say that I enjoy lentils, Maria comments that they are good for you because they have lots of iron. Piero arrives then, with his cousin Sandro, and proceeds to make his own pasta with fish they had purchased that morning. They save me some so I can have it for dinner.

3 I go to get some ice cream, and later wish I hadn't.

3:30 I am still tired from the night before, so I stay in my room all afternoon. I can't sleep, so I read. I also poke around online, reading things about Italian soccer and Italian dialects. I discover a movie set in the region near Via Piana called La Cioceria. It's also dubbed in English under the the Two Women and stars Sofia Lauren. I start to watch that.

6 My evening shift starts, beginning with a request from Piero to email Hostel Bookers. They have a lot of problems with that agency: bad search results, bad reviews...most recently, the website allowed a same-day reservation which apparently is no good. So, being the English expert around here, I get to write the angry email. Well, I try to be polite but forcefull.

7 Even though we have no more reservations, it's good to have someone sitting in reception tonight because in walk two Belgian guys looking for beds for one night. I put them in the 6-bed dorm, give them their 40% discount coupon for the parking garage, and get them towels. I make sure they have keys and maps and the standard restaurant recommendations. I make mental note that I need to boil two more eggs tonight. I sit down to watch a little more of the Italian film and people start to come down to the kitchen.

9:11 As I write this, the Italian girls, the Italian guys, and the older American couple are sitting down to their evening meal. I'm only obliged to stay here until 9, but the couple cleverly came down to cook at 8:50 and of course I couldn't turn them away. Fortunately, I wasn't counting on an evening passeggiata but I could actually go out any time before mid-night and Taormina will still be bustling. So maybe I will.

Buona Sera!

P.S. I know this sounds very glum, but it was just a low-key day.

What's the most interesting thing about this post?

Sunday night, we did go to the pizzeria. Piero had a friend in town and they wanted to have a meal together, so they chose Pizzeria Flamingo. During the day it is actually a lido, a private beach where one pays to rent a spot with a lounge chair and umbrella, so the outdoor eating area was right next to the sea. We got there a little after 10 p.m. We left around 12:30 a.m. It was so hardcore! Up to that point, I had been feeling pretty Italian just eating my meals around 8 or 9 in the evening, but never had eaten much later than that. Now I’ve experienced the real thing.

I almost ate my entire pizza, too (I probably could have, but something keeps me from eating excessively in public…not at home, mind you…just in public). My cousin Anna says she won’t be able to go back to American pizza after this, and I’m beginning to agree. Not much can compare to Italian pizza baked in a wood oven…nel forno a legna. I had the pizza mexicana, which featured red and yellow peppers with spicy salami. Ruggero, the five-year-old, had pizza with…wait for it…FRENCH FRIES AND PIECES OF HOT DOG. I told them that this kind of pizza would be very strange in America. Maria asked why. I said I guessed Americans hadn’t thought of it yet.

Yesterday afternoon I went to the sea and got a little jellyfish sting (very little…you can’t even see the spot anymore). The Italian word for jellyfish is medusa. I’m glad it didn’t turn me into stone. The jellyfish was actually very beautiful, small with brown stripes. The water is SO clear here that one can see everything: jellyfish…lots of fish, actually…seaweed…rocks. I figured out that I could open my eyes underwater without much discomfort and now going to the sea is much more fun. Speaking of rocks, the beaches in the area immediately around Taormina are all pebble beaches. They kind of make it difficult to walk, and in the water they are covered with algae and quite slippery. I’ve grown to appreciate the rocks, however, because the lack of sand makes life SO much easier.

I wish you all were here to enjoy this with me! If you find yourself free in the next two weeks, I’ll be here. Bunk beds at Taormina’s Odyssey are only €20 per night. Can’t guarantee the same value for an airline ticket, unfortunately.

Before my evening shift, I’m going to investigate the library. I think it might be fun to read some children’s books. I’m also reading a book that was here at the hostel called Fuori da un Evidente Destino (Beyond a Clear Destiny, I guess I’d say…but if any Latin students are reading this, please note that it’s not a literal translation). It’s a novel set in Flagstaff, Arizona, and I find it amusing to read about American culture from the perspective of an Italian author. So far there’s a character named Caleb Kelso, a hunter who has a dog named Silent Joe (because it never barks). Caleb appears to have some money troubles, but at the end of chapter one has just discovered a mysterious cave at the base of a tree split in half by lightening. Silent Joe, the dog, has emerged from the hole with a human bone in its mouth. Dun dun dun…

To be continued!

Sicilia

Is this really my first post from Sicily? I bought a new power cable this week and have slowly been catching up with the world since then. I almost didn’t want to turn on the computer again, it was so freeing to be without it. It’s the same way with my camera (although I am planning to buy a disposable camera to capture a few key memories).

I’ve been here for over a week now and am truly enjoying it. As expected, I spend more time working here than at the B&B. I’ll do a post on my typical day, later. The family (Piero who is the husband and a bit older, Maria who is the wife and probably in her forties, and Ruggero who is the cute if somewhat spoiled five-year-old son) are excellent hosts. They give me a lot of trust and responsibility, and take care of me in so many ways.

Today for il pranzo (lunch) we ate linguine con pomodorini e frutte del mare (linguine with cherry tomatoes and seafood). Maria is such a good cook. We are always joking that this should be a Michelin-rated restaurant. They actually do want to have a very small restaurant at some point in the future. At any rate, lunch was amazing. The seafood was delicious and consisted of shrimp and mussels purchased at the produce market in Siracusa when the family went there yesterday.

The meal was a perfect picture of life here: traditionally Sicilian, filled with kindness and generosity. I didn’t realize this before, but lunch (as explained to me by the girl helping here before) is the most important meal of the day here. The family always eats together, so I eat with them and we ALWAYS have pasta: farfalle, linguine, spaghetti, etc. For the first week I was horrified at the thought of all the white flour I was consuming, but I (and my body, I hope) have gotten used to it by now. And Maria always gives me such a large portion. My plate is always pre-served with pasta, and then we help ourselves to salad and vegetables as soon as there is room on our plates, for which I am extremely grateful. Maria noticed on the first day that I was eating my pasta slowly and diving into the side dishes, so we talked a little about how I like vegetables. She agrees that they are good for you and thankfully prepares some every day (the most unique was zucca or pumpkin, steamed and prepared with olive oil and vinegar). But still, a generous serving of pasta every day. Last year in Italy I was cooking for myself (that’s not actually fair to say…Anna Gansert was cooking which was much, much better) and so the food was influenced by but certainly not typically Italian. So this has been a new experience for me.

Besides the special lunch today, the other astonishing demonstration of their generosity came Wednesday night when I was preparing for my free day (we had just worked out my day off that morning, very last-minute, very Italian). I was reading all about Siracusa in the hostel’s guide book, and just before he left for the night, Piero came up to me saying he had “un piccolo present” for my trip the next day and put some money in my hand. I was surprised and touched. I didn’t really know what proper protocol was in that type of situation, so I tried to demonstrate my astonishment by weakly protesting and my gratefulness by thanking him profusely. I hope he realized how much it meant to me. It covered my bus fare and some of my food for the day.

Tonight after check-in (6-9 p.m.) we are going to a pizzeria. I am still full from lunch. Ciao!